Dead Love
by Almadynis
Summary: PG-for all the mushy stuff. This is the school thing, so this is all there is...but what would happen if your love was dead?


19

Asta just stared at her father. He was finally dead. It was unreal; she had been waiting for this day for so long that nothing seemed real. How in Thor's name had her father fallen off his horse in the first place? He had the best horsemanship in the village.

"Asta?" the voice of Asta's mother made her look into eyes that were full of sadness and pity. Why pity? What did Kirby know that she didn't? "Asta, just before your father died…well, he turned all the land and tidings to your brother. You are no longer clan chief. I…I am sorry Asta. I know how much you loved the job."

She was disinherited? Why? She was the best daughter she knew how to be. Now, according to tradition, since she was disinherited, she would have to move from the place of her birth to someplace unknown and earn her living by plowing the field or go a-viking. A-viking was not proper for a girl, but it was not unheard of.

"I will go pack my things." As soon as the words left her lips, Asta noticed her mistake. She didn't own anything anymore. Nothing was hers but the clothes on her back, the sword at her side, and her eating utensils. Everything she carried.

Kirby must have noticed the look on her face, for one of understanding came to hers. "You had better leave now. I will give you your stallion, Tait."

Kirby was known around the valley for having the most compassionate heart, and she had just proved it to Asta. Legally, the horse was Kirby's. But she had just given the best stud in the valley to a "stranger". Kirby was indeed compassionate.

It didn't make sense for Father to disinherit her. He had been teaching her the "trade" of running the village for as long as she could remember. Little things at first, trips to the houses at tax time, sitting at her father's feet when callers came. Why disinherit her?

A servant led Tait toward her. His tack was all ready on him, with packs. Asta didn't look in the packs. She didn't think she could stand it if her mother was any kinder than she all ready had proven and not start crying.

Asta took Tait from the servant and started down the village road toward the forest beyond, feet dragging and determined not to look back at the place of her birth, which she would never see again.

The road ahead of Asta distracted her from the brooding thoughts of the past. Tree limbs were hanging across the road, in the way of travelers. Not surprising, rumor had it that no one had gone out of the village in at least three generations. She would be the first, and if her brother could help it, the last. No one in the village liked outsiders. They just didn't. No one knew why.

As the sun set, the limbs caught at just the right angle and looked like they were afire. Red and orange against the dark midnight blue of the sky. It was a beautiful and terrible thing to behold, as Asta could almost feel like she was the tree, burning in the light of the setting sun. Pain lanced through her as her mind took hold of the imagination and made it real, turning her arms a delicate pink before Asta could wrench her mind away from certain death.

It had always been a problem for her. It seemed that Asta's mind could make what she thought real, at least to her. Sometimes she saw and heard things no one else did. She had learned long ago that one should not talk about such things, to anyone.

Leaves crunched under her feet and that of Tait's. It took great effort of will not to picture the pain that a leaf could feel. Grass was abundant. So were bushes and shrubs. All shades of black in the now, dark moonless sky. Asta knew she would have to camp soon or be forced to sleep standing up, which was very uncomfortable and one could never get enough sleep that way.

Asta picked a clearing off to the side of the trail, taking off her cloak/blanket and setting it up to be a pillow on the hard ground of the Northern Terrain.

Through the night, Asta was amazed she got any sleep at all. Especially considering all the noise in the darkness. Owls, boars, and musk oxen were making just enough noise to wake her, then quit for just enough time that she got back to sleep. And then the whole thing would start again.

By the time the sun rose, Asta had had about three hours of sleep, but the creatures of the night didn't care about that. Tait was gracious enough to be led to a rock, where Asta could mount without a problem.

Travel was slow in the dense forest of the Northern Terrain. From the little use, branches hung over the road making it all but impossible to pass. The path itself was hard to see, from the way it was all but grown over and the little light getting through to actually see it. Asta was getting desperate about noon when she came upon a path that was very well in use. It wasn't grown over in any way.

Branches stayed well away from the path. Light streamed in a line from the lack of branches overhead. Grass and bushes were at the sides of the path, but not on it. Pebbles were on the path to help horses and carts hit as little bumps as possible.

But for all the green, the path seemed to have a slight cruel ambiance. Not anything that Asta could put her finger on. Just a feeling that made the hairs on the back of her neck and arms stand on end. But Asta had never been as wise as her namesake. So, out of plain curiosity and the thought that the worse that could happen was that she would have to turn back, Asta started down the well-traveled pebbled path.

The going was much easier now that nothing was in her way. In just a few more hours, Asta went at least nine kilometers. The view didn't change much. After the tenth kilometer though a house came into view. Still a long way away, Asta was able to study it before she came upon the front door.

The house was only one story. But the vine that crawled over it was evidence in its disuse. No one with half a brain would allow vines to grow on their house. It makes them degrade all the faster. The green of the vines all but totally hid the red wood under it. The only red around was cedar, which meant that the house would last at least twice as long as a normal house without having to build another. The clearing it sat in was over grown with weeds and high grass that looked like it came up to Asta's chest.

Asta's heart soared as all the facts added up. No one lived there! It would be hers. No one wanted it. It was the best house that she could have hoped for. More even. By then, Asta had come upon the entrance, after fighting the weeds that really did come up to her chest. The weeds just made Asta laugh, it ringing through the clearing. Sounding like a waterfall. But it was cut short by all the hair on her arms standing on end. An evil presence was there. Or was it? Just as quickly as it had come, it left. Leaving nothing but the memory and the thought that it was but her imagination.

Asta pushed open the door and went into the house thinking she was prepared for anything. She was, except for the family of squirrels that seemed to have decided that it was their home. They ran out of the house as quickly as they could, all four of them.

That was the last straw. It was finally. No one lived there. It would be Asta's new home. And first things first would be the noon meal, since Asta had missed all the meals from the time that she had left the village, to then. Asta was substantially hungry.

Going to Tait, who had been left outside and was grazing most contentedly, Asta pulled off his tack and packs. Leaving nothing to hold him. Asta thought that if he wanted to stay it should be his decision, not hers. But Tait apparently liked it with his mistress, for he continued grazing like nothing had happened that was out of the ordinary.

His bags were heavy. Tearing up the grass in a spot so she could sit down without it being a problem, Asta opened the packs. Inside was enough to make Asta cry for the first time since she had been disowned. Tears streaming down her face, making it impossible to see. Her hand came up of its own accord and wiped the tears away from her face, steadying her breath so that she wouldn't cry again. In the pack was food in abundance, an axe head, flint and tinder, leather, purple cloth, cord that by the way it was done was made personally by her mother making it the strongest in the valley. Everything she needed to start a home.

The light was beginning to dim, so Asta built a fire using the axe-head and flint and the grass in the clearing. It was an easy way to get rid of it without dulling a blade. Between Tait and fire, the grass would be gone soon. But to make it easier, Asta pulled up grass in a "path" pattern, a strip where the grass wasn't from the pebbled path to the door.

Whether from exhaustion or just soft ground, Asta slept peacefully and soundly throughout the night. The firelight dying as the night went on. Toward dawn, after the fire had dyed totally so that not even the coals could be seen, a man walked out from the surrounding trees. He was tall and sinewy, giving the impression of great strength and power without bulky muscles. His hair was very long, but well kept, shining like a raven's wing, even though there was no moon and only the stars gave light, pulled back at the nape of his neck and secured with a leather thong. But it was his face that caught the attention if looked at. It could have been chiseled from stone. His was the face of a man capable of great sensuality, or great cruelty. He screamed of danger, enough that Asta stirred in her sleep.

At her movement, his eyes drew to her form, lying in the dirt cushioned by grass. No emotion was evident in his face. Nothing was given away. His eyes moved over her face and body. Studying the face that could have been alabaster in its color and softness of look. Her dark brown hair hid much of her face, except her mouth. Which, even in the light of the coming dawn was a red like no other.

Dawn was peaking through the trees, making the stranger look at it. Realizing the day was coming, he drifted back into the forest, but not before he caught the sound of her sigh in reaction to her dream. The lines around his face softened for a moment before turning back into immovable stone. Melting into the trees just as sunlight hit the clearing and waking Asta from her dream.

Asta had been at the house about a week. Enough to dust out the house, get it able to live in, make a handle for the axe, and a broom out of the surrounding saplings, grass, and the cord her mother had given her. Not much it seemed but in that amount of time it was considerable. And from the noises in the night, the surrounding area had enough wildlife to support her for a long while. If she could make a stupid bow and arrows. It was definitely harder than it looked. Her food from the village was about gone, and she still couldn't figure out how to make a bow and arrows. Her sword was no good. It was just good for skinning the animal, but that doesn't help if there is not an animal to skin! Asta's thoughts were screaming for a break from trying, again, to remember how to make one, when out of the blue, a stranger walked out of the woods. It was startling. All of the sudden he was there. And he looked so good! Man…could anyone be better looking? He was the epitome of beauty, even if he was male. Yet, he had an aura of cruelty, no, the ability to be cruel.

Then he spoke. His voice soft, yet ringing in the clearing of trees, seeming to bounce off the very trees themselves. "What are you doing?"

"I am trying to make a bow and arrows to get some food." Her voice wound around his heart even as he attempted to turn it to stone. It worked for the time, until he saw her eyes. Green eyes the color of the forest around him, new leaves in the process of opening. The sun already almost gone on the horizon hitting them just right to put a red tinge in the color. He got lost in them, drowning in the sheer madness of the green ocean that was her eyes.

"What are you staring at? And who are you? The sun is almost gone, do you have a place to stay?" Her voice was soft with concern for him, even though she knew nothing of him or where he had come from. She cared. Why did she have to care?

"I am Rune. I was staring at your beautiful home, and no, I don't have a place to stay." That was as close to the truth as she could know without killing her with shock. It would have to do.

"Well, would you like to stay here? I don't have much, but if you can teach me how to make a bow and arrows, consider it room and board." She laughed at her silly phrase. The sound rang through the clearing and tugged at his soul. He would have to be careful around her. If he wasn't someone might get hurt.

"I have a dog. Could he stay too?"

"Sure, don't have much, like I said, but he can keep Tait company."

Rune sat down beside her and studied her in the fading light. He noticed that her hair had red highlights in the sunlight. Her skin really was like alabaster and her lips were of the purest red. She was the epitome of his dreams. He would definitely have to be careful.

"Oh, I'm sorry, my name is Asta. Tait is my horse. Best stud around, but he is really protective of me. Plus, I think he likes the grass that grows here. He eats it all the time." What is wrong with me? I am flirting with him! Get a grip on yourself girl; he isn't the first male you have come in contact with.

"That is quite all right. My dog is around here somewhere. His name is Sigurd."

" 'Victorious guardian'?"

" Yes, I know it may sound strange, but I got him when I was little. He protected me from a lot of things through the years. He earned his name ten times over. There he is."

Asta looked toward where Rune was looking and a huge wolf loped out of the forest, tongue lolling out and panting. Asta quickly stood up and grabbed for her sword. It was instinct more than anything. Rune tackled her before she could get it all the way out. She fought him with all she was worth. Rune quickly got off her with an expression of surprise on his face. Sigurd was in front of him, fangs bared at the sword in her hand.

Asta was surprised as well, she never expected Rune to attack her. "Why did you attack me?"

Rune was even more surprised at her question. How could she not know? How could she touch him and not know? Was she totally numb from the brain down? "If you drew you sword, Sigurd would think you were attacking me, and would kill you. Don't draw you sword around him. Until he knows you."

"You could have warned me he was a wolf."

"He is a dog. Half-breed."

"He is a wolf, I have seen dogs and he is no dog."

"Does that mean you want me to leave?"

"No, I am just surprised is all. Come on in before it gets too cold and we get frostbite." Asta started toward the house, which she christened Esbern, just for the sheer fun of the sound. Divine bear it was not, it was a house, but it sounded interesting. Asta sheathed her sword as she went, a ching sound making it clear what had happened.

Sigurd instantly went back to 'dog' mode when he heard the sound. Lopping toward the house, leaving Rune in the cold night. Turning at the doorway, Sigurd barked softly, a signal that all was well, and to come. Rune walked into the house. Remembering things and yet, Asta had changed it and now it was hers, not his any longer.

Rune sat in a chair by the blazing fire while Asta piddled around in the fireplace, making what smelled to be stew with wild carrots and onions. Sigurd settled at his feet, yawned and slept without a second thought to how his master would sleep in a chair.

A sound started Rune from his thoughts. A soft crying sound was coming from what seemed like the fireplace. Asta was crying. Why? "Asta, are you okay?"

"NO! I am not okay. I want my father back. I want my mother. I want my brother. I want…" Asta stopped herself from saying that she wanted someone to love her and someone to love. She wanted someone to love her with all of their heart and soul and never hurt her. She wanted a person to wake up with in the morning. She wanted to wake up in a pair of warm arms wrapped around her, holding her close, loving her forever and ever. But she would never have it. She was just a 'child' who 'didn't know anything'. No one would want to be with her anyway. No one would want to be her husband, let alone love her. No one would want to hold her close, kiss her to make the tears stop, love her for who she was and for no other reason.

"What do you want?" Rune felt his heart go out to the woman in front of him. He wanted to hold her, kiss her tears away, but knew that she would probably hit him for it. And no one could hit him.

"I don't know." Which was a plain, blatant lie. Oh-well. If he knew the truth he would leave in three seconds flat.

"Then you had better go to bed, I will finish the soup, I will start teaching you how to make and kill tomorrow."

"All right."

"Hey! Sigurd, I am not a licking post, contrary to popular wolf opinion!" Asta yelled at the top of her lungs, just like every evening for the past two days. Rune laughed for the first time in years. It felt good to laugh again. Asta came out of the house in the purple tunic she had made the day before out of the fabric her mother had given her.

While she had made it, Asta had told Rune and Sigurd all about her life, all about her mother and father, how he had died, how she felt guilty and yet glad, how she had wanted him to die because she wanted to take over, and how she had been disowned and disinherited. A certain purple outfit had gotten a little damp and salty.

Now Rune had bad news for her, as much as he didn't want to tell her, it was better than she finding out on her own. "Asta?"

"Yeah?"

"Tait…" How could he tell her?

"What about him?" What did he want to know about Tait?

"Tait…isn't here. He ran away. He is gone."

Asta felt her face drain of color. He was gone. Her only thread to home. Gone, gone. Gonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegonegone gonegonegonegonegonegone…

Rune rushed to catch Asta as she fell, fainted. Carrying her wasn't difficult, he was just glad she wasn't awake for her to feel him. He set her on her bed and got a piece of fabric and dipped it in the washwater that Asta had set out for the both of them that morning. Covering her forehead with the cloth, Rune could only stare as the woman he was beginning to love slowly opened her eyes. Staring past him. Never blinking.

Rune sat in the front yard, staring at the knee-high grass. It was growing rapidly without a horse to crop it. Asta was attached to the horse, he could tell, but he didn't know how to help. The only thing he knew how to do was… He couldn't continue that sentence, he couldn't.

"Rune?" Rune jumped at the sound of her forlorn voice coming from behind him. In just a few seconds, he was at her side, helping her up into a sitting position. "He really is gone isn't he?" His heart was breaking at her broken tone. He couldn't stand it anymore. He leaned close to her, and before he could change his mind, kissed her. Softly, not the way he wanted to, which was to demand and control, but as softly and gently as he could.

She couldn't do anything except kiss him back. Then her hand cupped the back of his neck, pulling him toward her, loving the way his mouth felt, loving the way it was soft as velvet and warm, loving the way his tongue tried to possess her mouth and the way she beat him to it. Trying to outdo him in expertise she didn't have. Instinct was all she had.

Rune broke it off. Breathe, breathing is good. He couldn't do this. "Do you love me?" He needed the answer. He had to have it.

"I think I do. Yes." I hope that he loves me back. He is the one I want. With all of my heart and soul.

Gods and goddesses! She loved him! Gods! How could you let her love me? How could you? How could you? Just to spite me? Just to get your cheep pleasure at my eternal pain? Rune started to cry. How could she love him? How, how, how…

"Rune, are you okay? Why are you crying?" He doesn't love me. Why did I have to make a fool of myself?

"Because I am not what you think I am!" He had to put a hand over his mouth to keep from telling her everything. She was his everything, but if she knew…

Asta was floored. Not what she thought he was? What did she think he was? He was a gentle, loving, protective man who she happened to love. What was wrong with that picture? "Are you going to kill me?" Asta said it in a very silly tone, but the tone Rune used to answer her was dead serious and a presence that Asta hadn't felt in ages came again. The hair on her arms stood on end. The back of her neck was screaming in terror as Rune said, "Maybe."

Asta tried to make her tone light, and she was failing miserably, when she asked, "Well, can you at least teach me how to use this bow? Otherwise I will not know how to survive the afterlife!"

She was already out the door, when she barely heard, "The dead don't eat." In the most solemn voice she had ever heard out of Rune.

But the comment also got her thinking, why did Rune say that? How did he know what the dead ate or didn't eat? Valhalla was supposed to be the place filled with mutton and ale. How could he know unless…nope. Couldn't be. She had felt him, she knew him, she loved him.

But things kept popping in her head. Why did she only see him at night? Why did he never eat? Why did he never talk about his past? Why was his wolf so protective of him? Of course there were answers to all of those questions, good answers.

"Why do you only come here at night?"

"I can't tell you. Ever, if you want to live. Please, don't ask."

Asta stayed up that night, she didn't go to sleep like usual, but played 'possum. When Rune and Sigurd left, like usual, Asta waited a little while, then followed him. She left the doorway in time to see him disappear into the forest. Using all twenty years experience, Asta went through the woods, looking for her love, for anything to follow him by. She caught glimpses of his black cloak every once in a while, enough for her not to give up. Staying as silent as possible, Asta followed at about a walking pace. Then she couldn't see him anymore, she looked around, nothing was moving, nothing crunched in the morning light of midday. Where had Rune gone? Then, Asta heard something that almost made her run away in terror. The only thing that kept her rooted was the thought that Rune could be in the trap of the owner of the voice. "Asta."

Asta looked around searching for the owner of the voice, anything to lead her to her love. She looked just in time to see Rune. He was bleeding! "Rune!" Her terrified voice caught at his heart. But he knew what was going on. He hoped with all of his soul that she could forgive him. Pulling out his sword, he faced the one person in the entire world that could help him, and he had to kill her.

Asta stared at the sword pointed in her direction. What was he doing? And why was he bleeding? What was going on? Asta looked over her shoulder to try and see what could he be pointing a sword in her direction for. If not for her quick reflexes, Asta would have died right then. But she flew to the side as the sword swiped at where her neck would have been. Pulling out she sword, she cried out, "Why? I love you!"

"I know. I love you too. But you found out. You have to die now, and I have to do it. I will not have a stranger kill my wife!" With that last statement, Rune swung his sword in a classic position. Asta easily blocked it and swung at the opening in his side. Her sword drove through his body, never stopping, and landing in a tree beside him. What? Asta's eyes sought his, but all she saw was a flash of silver as her head was cleaved from her shoulders.

Asta looked at Rune, Sigurd and Tait. Where were they?

"We are in Valhalla. Thank you. If not for your love for me, I would never have been able to come here. I love you, and if you never forgive me, I won't blame you."

"Forgive you for what? Rune what is going on?"

"Well, all of us are dead. I killed you. Tait, Sigurd and I were already dead, but you believed in us enough to make us real. So, I could kill you. I have been roaming this earth for as long as I can remember with just a phrase sounding in my mind. 'Find your star.' Then I found you. But you were alive. The rules say that I mortal can not know that the dead watch over them, so I couldn't tell you anything. I am so sorry. I do love you. I would love to be your husband, to hold you in the morning light, but that couldn't happen, because you were mortal, and I was dead. In the sunlight all of the dead's secrets are stripped away. You would know that I had died by a wound in the chest. So, when you followed me, I had to kill you, because if I didn't some other ghost would, and you were going to be my wife. I hope you can forgive me."

Asta was amazed that she had never though of any of the things he mentioned. How her name meant 'star'. How Tait had just disappeared without a trace. How her father could disown her. She was the only living person in the whole village! No wonder they didn't get visitors.

All the pieces came together, and as a sign that Asta couldn't be mad at her future husband, she kissed him. Full and long, right on his wonderfully red lips.


End file.
